


Forgotten But Not Gone

by acklesaway



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Candles, Future Fic, M/M, Older Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-14
Updated: 2011-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acklesaway/pseuds/acklesaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See the young man sitting in the old man's bar, waiting on his turn to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten But Not Gone

A man walks into a bar with a trench coat and a pensive look on his face. The bartender grins at him. "I think you're in the wrong joke," he teases. The guy doesn't reply he just sits down at the bar. The bartender shakes his head and finishes up with the customer he's already with. He slowly saunters over to the man in the suit because he knows he wants something.

"Can I help you with something?" He asks.

The man blinks at him. "I would like a beer if you will."

The bartender nods and grabs a bottle from behind him. He opens the top and slides it over to the man. He places his fingers over the label, drenched in perspiration. He studies it for a moment before his blue eyes line up to the bartender’s green. They were grayer than they had been in his youth, but the fire was still there. The man drank a sip, not taking his eyes off the bartender.

The man looks unsure of himself. “Dean, do you—“

“I remember who you are, Cas,” Dean amends. How could he forget? It had been years since he’s seen him.

Since he heard his half-assed goodbye.

Castiel nods his head slowly, almost testing out the simple gesture. “The way you were acting I could not be sure.” Dean shrugs. It wasn’t that exciting to be a fifty year old barkeep, he had to get his giggles in somewhere.

They both were silent. Castiel was drinking his beer and Dean was watching him. There was a lot Dean wanted to say but it wasn’t his business, truthfully.

Castiel slams the bottle down on the bar top and Dean finds him watching the blue eyes that had gained an edge to them. “I could not find you, Dean. I arrived at Lisa's place of residence and you were already gone.”

Dean sat back on a bar stool. Huh. "The rib thing?”

Something glimmers in Castiel’s eyes that was new. “Yes, the rib _thing_.”

Dean coughs and reaches around to get Castiel another beer. Castiel's looking at him like he expects Dean to say something. “Oh,” he replies.

Castiel’s eyes look down at the beer that was now in his hands. “I could never forget you, Dean. One does not forget someone like you so easily.”

*

They make idle chit chat for awhile. Mostly about Dean. How he left Lisa’s and found himself owning a little rinky dink bar. The owner left so Dean vowed to take it over. He doesn't talk about Sam but the omission isn’t like an elephant in the room for some reason. It's easy conversation.

It takes a little while to admit, and who ever claimed Dean to be less than hard-headed, but he kind of missed Cas in the last twenty years. He was his biggest ally since Sam. How could he _not_ miss him?

But he just left and Dean wasn’t one to let someone back without a fight.

There is a nervous aura about him, though.

“So what’s up in the angelic playground since I’ve been gone?”

Castiel shrugs, which that's pretty new. “About that,” he trails off. And couldn’t those damn angels get off their high horse once? “I’m kind of in trouble and need your assistance.”

Dean stands up quickly. “What’s wrong?”

Castiel hesitates and it is an odd sight to see after all these years. Castiel is a go-to guy. When something needed to get done, it needed to get done _now_. There _was_ no hesitating. “I have…something powerful very angry with me. I do not think I will make it past tonight.”

Dean gulps. He's in no shape to fight some angels with Cas no matter how much he wants to. He's fifty for Christ’s sake. His apartment doesn’t have lights; he has to get around by candlelight. “Cas,” he honestly felt _guilty_ for backing out. “I don’t know if you realized that I’m _fifty_. I can’t help you fight an archangel or whatever it is that’s after you. I’m sorry but—“

Castiel interrupts Dean. “I’m aware, Dean. I would not ask that of you. I was just wondering if you remembered a promise you made me long ago.”

Dean scoffs. “I made a lot of promises.”

Castiel looks uncertain and Dean didn’t know what he had promised that could make an angel so hesitant. It was probably Alzheimer’s in its early stages, no less than he deserved.

“I…you promised you wouldn’t let me die a virgin.”

Dean gulps. He's not a Casanova anymore. Hell, he rarely sleeps with anyone anymore. He can’t try to get Cas a girl, no matter how hard he tries. “Wait, you’ve already died a virgin. Twice.”

Castiel closes his eyes and he can’t look at him anymore. “I will not be resurrected again. I can feel it.”

“Cas, I don’t know anyone.”

“You misunderstand me. I was wondering if,” Castiel opens his eyes and even though they aren’t _really_ his eyes he could feel some intimate feeling behind them. It scares Dean a little bit. “I want it to be you.”

He can’t breathe. He needs fresh air and an inhaler and maybe Cas as far away from him as possible. He can’t just come back and demand this. _But he's not demanding it_ , a nagging voice said in the back of his head. _it’s his last wish. He’s wondering, not forcing_. And maybe once upon a time he could have humored the idea, not that he _had_ , just he might have.

Cas was intense and maybe occassionally his thoughts would lead that way, but nothing more than thoughts. And Castiel had been too weak, not week but lacking in his angelic mojo, to read his mind. But here he was. This angel he had thought forgotten him. He had looked for him and found him in his last day.

And if he was telling the truth he wants it, just a little bit.

Then Castiel is suddenly next to him, in his space, and it's like nothing has changed. “Please,” he pleads and Castiel had never used that word on Dean before. “Are you going to deny me this, Dean? I know you want it. Maybe not a lot but there is a seed is in your head. If I’m wrong, I’ll leave and no harm, I swear.”

Dean leans his forehead on Castiel’s shoulder but doesn’t say anything. Castiel becomes stiff and Dean knows he is going to leave. “You’re not wrong,” he whispers and that might’ve been the most personal thing he’s ever admitted. Dean’s never gotten what he wanted and never once offered it out loud.

But who would know except himself and Cas?

“Are you going to let me die a virgin tomorrow, Dean?” He whispers; his voice still powerful.

Dean shakes his head. “No, Cas. Let me take you upstairs.”

*

Dean’s apartment is small and dark. He attempts to get Cas to stay in the hallway while he straightens up and light a few candles but he's just not having any of it.

“Dean, I have waited years. Why would I want to wait? I don’t care what you place of living looks like.” And while that is nice to hear, it isn’t doing good things for Dean’s nerves.

Dean nods and opens the door. He knows he should’ve cleaned up some, but it's too late now. He leaves Cas in the living room while he goes to gather the candles located all over. One or two would do the job but for some reason he wants them all. He imagines what an angel would look like in candlelight. Then he imagines Cas. And it might’ve been too mushy for Dean but it is kind of a nice image in his head.

“It’s sweet,” a voice says from behind him. He knew Cas wouldn’t stay where he told him. Dean lets a rush of air leave his lungs. “You have no reason to be nervous though. Trust me.”

Those could, ideally, be two deal breaking words right there but it calmed Dean’s nerves just a bit. Dean turned around and Cas was there all around him. It is comforting. “No funny stuff, Cas. I’m too old to be flush against a couch.”

Castiel tilts his head. “But I would presume--”

Dean presses a finger against Castiel’s lips, a smug smile on his face. “Be careful with me.” He knows exactly what Castiel presumed but this was Dean’s decision.

Castiel leans forward and presses his lips to Dean. Neither of them move; just let lips press against lips in Castiel’s first real kiss. Dean brings his hand up to Castiel’s nape and presses closer.

Dean falls limp against the wall as he lets Castiel kiss him; lets him take the lead. Dean wants to push and touch but knows it will be better for both of them if Castiel just takes control. Dean still doesn’t have a load of patience either. He lets one hand wander aimlessly before he's grasping his bedroom door handle. He opens it and feels hands gripping his back before he end up falling into the open room.

“Careful,” Castiel growls and _fuck yes_. Dean pulls on Castiel’s collar and he wants him now. Just that one word, the fierce protectiveness it had in its syllables has Dean wanting. He walks them backwards until Dean’s thighs hit the bed.

Castiel looks away and suddenly all of the candles are lit and surrounding Dean’s bed. He looks back and there's a certain calm surrounding Cas. “I do have certain…requirements. I believe my patience is deserving.”

Castiel starts kissing him once again. Dean opens his mouth for him and lets Cas lead the kiss again even though his mind is reeling.

He finds himself lying on the bed and he’s pretty sure Cas is working some kind of mojo on him. “Patience?” he asks in between breaths.

Cas is kneeling over him. “I’ve been patient, Dean. Over twenty years,” he trails off. He hadn’t even thought Cas would…want him. Let alone pine (if that’s what Cas meant) for Dean. For almost twenty years.

Dean reaches around Cas to pull him flush to Dean. He makes a noise against Dean’s neck which makes it seem like he hadn’t _only_ pined for him. Dean starts unbuttoning Castiel’s shirt and Cas soon gets the hint. Cas can’t stop pausing to kiss Dean in certain spots, and it's more intimate in the candlelight, Dean thinks.

Once they're fairly naked, Cas leans away from Dean and he tries not to think of it as cold feet, tries to swallow down the beats of self-loathing that were suddenly bubbling up. Cas is back in a flash with lube and a condom. An angel should not hold a condom, it was just not…right.

Dean surges forward to meet Cas and uses the other hand to grab Cas and kiss him hard, show him how much he wants him. He grabs onto his hair and opens Castiel’s mouth to show him how a real kiss is done. Cas ends up a panting mess by the time Dean's done and he tries not to seem smug about it, but it was hard. _I still got it_ , he thinks to himself.

Cas grabs for the lube and holds it in his hands, not doing anything else with them which was not what Dean wanted. His hands should be doing something else.

“Have you ever done this? If not, I think we should reverse this because I want you, Dean. But not in pain,” Cas babbles, not looking at him.

“Hey,” Dean says making Cas look at him again. “Chill out. I’ve done it...once. I was experimenting. Kind of.”

Castiel’s eyes soften as Dean tries not to think of the reasons why. “You experimented for me.”

Apparently Dean was really bad at filtering his thoughts.

Dean nods, these new angel powers were kind of coming in handy, even if he can’t fully admit it. It's better than saying it out loud. “I did, and hopefully, it’s not for nothing because—“

“You’re fifty. I got it.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “And you’re older than existence. Not what I was going to say but whatever. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“It’s quite impossible to exist before existence,” Cas starts to argue back but Dean has had it with his lollygagging. He grabs the tube out of Castiel’s hands and puts some on his own fingers.

“If I get carpal tunnel tomorrow, I’ll kill you myself,” he threatens, not really meaning it.

Castiel’s not paying attention because he's watching Dean’s hands. He opens himself open for a few seconds before Cas gets with the program and opens him the rest of the way. He's slow and thorough like he is with everything.

Dean kind of loves his fingers. A little too much.

“Stop,” Dean says after a few minutes. “I’m old, not a girl on prom night. Get over here, Angel Boy.” Cas lets Dean put the condom and Dean makes the most of it, even putting some lube over the condom just to get an extra feel or two. “I’m all yours.”

“Get on your side,” Cas instructs. Dean had missed that deep voice telling him what to do. But for once in his life he was going to do what Cas commanded of him. This _was_ all about him tonight after all. Even if Dean was planning on enjoy the ride.

He feels Cas behind him, his feet in between Dean’s legs. Dean’s body is hyper aware of Cas against him, he just tries to focus on the red candle on the table in front of him.

Cas pushes in and Dean makes a grunt after the initial push. Cas reaches around to hold him close; just taking his time. There's no rush, even though Dean was used to something a little faster. There are kisses pressed into his skin, whispered words into his ear and Dean doesn’t want it to end.

“Cas,” Dean groans, reaching back to grab Castiel. He needs the contact. They were so surrounded in each other and for the first time it felt like they fit together, really fit together. Their breathing mixes together and as Dean exhales, Cas inhales. As Dean’s heart pulsed “buh”, if feels like Castiel’s finished the “boom”.

Cas bites into Dean’s shoulder and speeds up his thrusts. “Dean,” he mirrors. “Perfect. This is…so good. Dean.”

Castiel’s hand reaches down his chest and grips Dean’s cock. Dean groans again and Castiel’s pushes harder and it's intense; even for Dean. They keep rocking against each other until they come, their names the only words left to say.

Dean smiles as soon as it's over. Castiel pulls out and Dean looks down to see the damage to his bed but they are both clean. Dean looks over to Castiel, but he’s already starting to push Dean on his back. Once Dean's situated, he falls next to him, placing a hand on Dean’s stomach.

 _Not cuddling_ , Dean tries to convince himself.

They lay there just basking in the afterglow when Dean realizes this was it. Cas is gone in the morning. And maybe he doesn’t want that. Maybe he wants one last fight.

He swallows. “So, who’s after you, Cas? I’ll back you up, no matter who it is.”

Castiel takes a gulp of unneeded air and his heartbeat speeds up a bit. “About that. I may have…lied.”

Dean blinks. Then he gets up on one elbow to give Castiel his full attention. “You lied,” he repeats dumbly.

He swallows and avoids Dean’s piercing gaze. He looks nervous. _As he should_. He lied to get into Dean’s pants. How…human.

“Yes,” he admits. Dean opens his mouth to tell him something along the lines of _if you wanted to get into my pants all you had to do was ask_ but Castiel takes him off guard. “You told me when human’s…people…want something really badly, they lie.”

And Dean isn’t expecting that. At all. He feels fondness seep into his chest. He lies back down and in the justice of (not) cuddling, he places his arm over Castiel’s chest.

“So, no one is trying to kill you? There was no one angry?”

Castiel turns to face him and his nervousness turns into a stoic façade that Dean is familiar with. “I would. I was angry. Dean, I would have died if this didn’t happen.”

Dean kisses Castiel once more. It's not sweet, even though it should be after that statement. From his silly melodramatic angel. It's just lips and teeth and pure want. Dean rolls over on top of Castiel and fuck his back. He needs to be on top of this manipulative witty angel immediately.

“Cas, you’re—God. You can’t keep shit like that in for twenty years.”

“I could not find you to tell you, Dean. I searched for you. Years.”

And Castiel needs to stop talking before Dean does something stupid.

“And if we don’t do that again, soon, I might die.”

Dean growls. “Stop talking,” Castiel actually smiles against Dean and Dean figures he could accept a dying man’s death wish…again.

And if Castiel's still alive in the following morning, Dean won’t think anything of it.

End.


End file.
